Spiritual Smokescreen

My experience with meditation happened on a retreat that was required as a part of my mindfulness teacher training. I had been on a couple other retreats, but this one was held at retreat center or “dharma” center that was clearly Buddhist, and that just set the tone in a different way from the start. I had known that these practices were derived from Buddhism, but when I took my first mindfulness class and later when I did my teacher training we were repeatedly told that they were secular and scientific, so I kind of just went along with it.

But every now and then, there would be a word like “dharma” or “non-dual” or “liberation” that the teacher would use and I’d feel a little uncomfortable but everything else made sense and we were all getting a lot out of it so again, I didn’t really listen to those little twinges. But when I arrived at the retreat center, with the shoe rack at the door, and the Buddha statue in the hall that sometimes people would pass and stop and bow with their hands together, all those twinges were suddenly all there at once, and I felt anxious and unsafe and like an outsider that didn’t belong. So I started the retreat in that kind of anxious agitated state and it really just accelerated from there. Focusing on my breath, my body sensations, thoughts, emotions just amplified what was happening. I would try to let go of thoughts, let them come and go but it felt like I also needed to seriously listen to what they might be saying.

So there was a tension there. After the third day, I just had a full-blown panic attack. Heart pounding, sweating, a feeling of non-referential terror, dizziness, nausea. My hands left sweat stains on my knees as I literally white knuckled my way to the bell, and then shuffled quickly in my sock feet to the bathroom. What am I doing here?

I went to the group interviews still feeling shaky and dissociated, like there was a pane of glass between me and everyone else. The teacher and other participants seemed somehow unreal like we might all be acting in a play.

When it was my turn, I had a hard time expressing myself, as if the connection between my mind and my mouth had been severed or clogged.

The teacher was wearing mala beads around her wrist. It suddenly didn’t feel OK to say “I’m having problems with how Buddhist this place is”.

All I could get out was “I am having difficulty” and started to cry. I blabbered a few more non-sensical words and then kind of gave up and murmured “I don’t know”. The teacher nodded kindly “compassion, my dear. Be kind to yourself. We are all so hard on ourselves. It’s OK, just take it easy”. She was so kind and sincere, how could I argue with that?

So I just nodded and dotted my eyes with the tissue she handed me “Yeah, OK…thanks”.

The room took a collective sigh of relief and then the attention moved to the next person. What just happened? How did I so flagrantly fail to communicate what was going on?

Was I really going to have to wait three more days until the next group check in?

But what was going on with me? I was having some anxiety so what, isn’t that what meditation was made for?

So I re doubled my efforts walking, lifting, moving, placing. Breathing in, one, two, three, in, out, in, out. Noting. Pressure, thinking, heat.

I kept my mind fully occupied for like two full days and was so tired I would just pass out at the end of the day. There were even a couple moments when my senses became very sharp and every blade of grass and leaf I could see individually.

Once while at lunch I looked across the dining hall and could see everyone breathing, which of course they always had been, but now I was noticing it. But those two days of concentration  were like winding up a spring, and soon the panic and terror was back but on a whole new supercharged level. My awareness of everyone’s breathing continued now with the constant pounding of my own heart like a drumbeat in the background.

In the silence, my mind had created a soundtrack but it was like the soundtrack of a horror movie as it builds up to some bloody climax. The building, the grounds appeared nightmarish.

I made it to the second group interview. This time I was not going to blow it. I raised my hand first “I’m having a tremendous amount of fear and anxiety”, “I feel like I am going to die”. It was a different teacher this time, a man. He also smiled and nodded “as the sankaras come up and purify, they can often manifest as fear. But don’t worry, you’re doing great, keep going”. I was too shocked to give any response, but it didn’t matter. The teacher’s own satisfaction with his answer satisfied the group that the matter was closed and again we were on to the next person. What the…fuck?

This time, I wasn’t going to sit back and be fed generic spiritual bullshit.

I left the retreat against the recommendations of the teachers. They kept telling me “The only way over it is through”, but I kept thinking: Isn’t the definition of insanity trying the same thing over and over again expecting different results?

I have since learned that it is actually well known that meditation can cause anxiety and panic attacks and dissociation. It’s been repeatedly documented in scientific research studies as well as Buddhist texts.

The spiritualizing of meditation side effects is a cowardly deflection of responsibility and accountability. Meditation can have negative effects if you’re a meditation teacher, you should know that and be prepared to help people who encounter them. Don’t feed them spiritual bullshit, especially if you have ever advertised meditation as scientific and secular. Take responsibility for the people in your care or don’t be a meditation teacher.